Dangerous Play

8 » double trouble

Mrs. Harris greeted me with a bright smile as I walked into the library. She had been the forensic science teacher until she became a librarian, but I'd met her freshman year as my seminar teacher, which was basically a free period class. With her corkscrew curls and lively eyes, she reminded me of Mrs. Frizzle from the Magic School Bus, if Mrs. Frizzle had been black.

"Abby! How are you, dear?"

I gave her a smile in return, watching as she sorted books behind the checkout counter. "I'm good. How have you been?"

She waved a hand, bright turquoise rings flashing. "I've been well! I can't believe you're already a senior; it feels like just yesterday you were all lost and confused walking into my classroom. Do you know where you're going to college yet?"

"I haven't decided, but I'm hoping for UNC Chapel Hill. Their coach is making a trip out here sometime in the next month to watch some of our games, so that's exciting." I laughed. "Hopefully they see something they like."

"Oh, how could they not?" Mrs. Harris brought out a stack of prep books and set them on the counter. "Could you take those to that table over there? I'll come join you in just a second."

I grabbed the stack and walked to the table she'd pointed out. The carpet muffled my footsteps, while floor-to-ceiling windows allowed bright sunlight to stream in the spacious room, illuminating dust motes and the spines of the books that lined the tall bookshelves. It was a peaceful environment. The only sounds came from the occasional student scattered throughout the library, finishing up homework assignments before the weekend began.

Setting the books down on the wooden surface, I pulled out a chair and settled in. Mrs. Harris came bustling over moments later with a binder full of papers. "Now, this year we're trying something new. I know in the past the tutoring program has been strictly within our school, but we've decided to branch out, to foster more connectivity between the students of our school district."

I nodded. I'd signed up to be a tutor last year as a last-ditch effort to get some volunteer service hours. To everyone's surprise, including my own, not only had I enjoyed it, but I found that I was actually good at teaching others. Considering my temper and lack of patience, the surprise wasn't unwarranted, but I was glad I'd found something else that I could do well.

"I'm sure you know of this school, or maybe even some students in it," she continued. "And I've gone ahead and paired you up with a student based on both of your schedules; I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all!" I said brightly. "Who's my latest victim? I mean, student?"

Mrs. Harris laughed. "Well, he's a senior and he needs help in AP biology and stats. Since you took biology last year and are currently in AP stats, I figured you'd be a perfect fit." She flipped through the binder until she reached the right page. "Here we go! From what the other teachers have told me, this boy is an absolute sweetheart. And apparently, he's cute, too."

"Is that what teachers do in their free time? Gossip about students?"

"Honey, we do more than just gossip. Why do you think we switch seating charts around so often?"

"And here I thought it was because I talked too much in class," I grumbled. "You mean you're all secretly matchmakers?"

"Not everybody, but a lot of us!" She laughed. "Now, don't go spreading that around! Anyway, Maddox is available to meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, and occasionally Friday, if he doesn't have practi—"

"Maddox?" I blurted, accidentally interrupting Mrs. Harris. Please, please, don't let it be the Maddox I'm thinking of.

Her smile brightened, mistaking my surprise for eagerness. "Yes, that's who you'll be tutoring this semester! Maddox Reiser, from St. Lawrence Academy."